


Allergic to Flowers

by squidlywiddly87



Category: Captain America (Comics), Captain America (Movies), Captain America - All Media Types, MCU, Marvel (Comics), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Character Death, F/M, Fluff, Mutual Pining, OFC - Freeform, Original Character - Freeform, Original Fictional Character - Freeform, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-09-20
Updated: 2018-09-20
Packaged: 2019-07-14 21:53:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,848
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16049303
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/squidlywiddly87/pseuds/squidlywiddly87
Summary: Flower shop AU where Iris (OFC) is allergic to flowers but she works at a flower shop.





	1. Glandilous

Acho!

“Why do you work here again?” Lisa asks me as I put away a new shipment of orchids. “You just spend most of the day sneezing and wiping your eyes.”

“I need the money?” I say as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world, which it is. A girl has to make a living somehow and I guess I gotta do it while sneezing my sinuses out. My overalls are covered in dirt and my hair sticks to the back of my neck. This summer has really kicked our asses. I bet my pits look horrendous. The greenhouse is flooded with little flies and they buzz around my head incessantly, adding to my already sour mood.

“But aren’t there other places, I don’t know, better suited for your allergies?” Lisa shouts over the loud hum of the garden hose.

“Sure there are, you don’t think I applied to them? No one called me back, fucking morons,” I mutter. Lisa laughs and shuts the hose off and as she does, the bell rings. A customer!

“I’ll get it!” I exclaim, anything to get away from this greenhouse of death. I take off my gardening gloves and tuck them into my back pocket. “Just a minute, I’ll be right with you!” I shout toward the store door.

“Take your time miss!” A male voice yells back. I walk quickly through the garden, and into the store, weaving my way through the back aisles.

Acho! Acho!

I thought it would be better in the store but I guess not. I see a tall, dirty blond man standing to look at a bouquet of white Lily of the Valley flowers. His broad shoulders captivate me, his jaw looks like its made of marble.

“Excuse me, sir?” I say and he turns around quickly. His blue eyes jump out of his smooth face and suddenly I find myself speechless. “H-how can I help you?” He looks me over quickly and softens his gaze, his eyes are rimmed red. He had been crying?

“Uh yeah, I need flowers,” he shifts awkwardly like he’s uncomfortable in his own body. “Okay,” I say slowly. “You’ve come to the right place. May I ask what for?” He takes a deep breath before speaking.

“A funeral.” He chokes on the last syllable. My heart clenches, these are the hardest customers to deal with. I never know what to say. I open my mouth to say my condolences but—

Acho! Acho! Acho!

My sneezes nearly take me out as I double over, sneezing into my shirt. Great, I always find a way to embarrass myself. Especially in front of the handsome man who’s clearly in mourning and looking for flowers.

“Bless you, miss…” He says but falters off.

“Oh thank you so much,” I say as I move to the register and reach for the box of tissues I keep. I turn and blow my nose, throw away the tissue and pump some hand sanitizer into my hands. “The name is Iris, you probably don’t want to shake my hand. I don’t blame you. Customers always think I’m carrying some kind of plague when it’s really just my allergies.” He chuckles and his eyes crinkle just a bit.

“It’s no problem. Um, what are you allergic to?”

“Flowers, pretty much any kind. It’s really weird and my mother named me one,” I snort.

“If you’re allergic to flowers, why do you work in a flower shop?” I shrug.

“I need the money and nowhere else hired me. They say I need experience, well how the hell am I supposed to get experience if they won’t hire me? Fucking pricks, spent all that time and money in college for nothing. I’m sorry I’m rambling.” Now he laughs.

“It’s okay, seriously. I’m Steve by the way.” I smack my forehead.

“I’m such an idiot. I didn’t ask you your name!” I walk back to him and shake his hand; he’s so warm and smells like soap. How he manages not to be sweaty in this weather is a secret I’d like to know. “As for your reason for your visit, I am so very sorry for your loss. I’m not good with emotions and stuff but just know I am sincere.”

“I appreciate it very much, Iris.” I point to a bouquet of calendulas, their red, orange and yellow hue don’t speak mourning but that’s what they mean.

“These are called calendulas, they’re typically used for funerals. The one you were looking at are called Lily of the Valley and symbolize purity, sweetness, and humility. There are so many different flowers to choose from as you can— acho! See,” I finish my sentence in my shirt sleeve.

“Bless you,” Steve says with a smile.

“Thank you.”

“Is there anything that symbolizes someone’s strength or something?” I wrack my brain and when the light bulb goes off, I rush past Steve to a group of medium height, pink flowers.

“These are called gladiolus; they’re named after the shape of their leaves.” I pick a pot up and show him. “What do they look like?” Steve examines them for a bit before speaking.

“This may sound crazy but swords?”

“You’re right! These flowers embody strength, moral integrity and some infatuation.”

“The first two describe Peggy perfectly,” Steve says. I look at him and his face is sad again.

“You’re wife?” Steve shakes his head slowly.

“An almost something. These flowers will do.” He straightens himself out, his face stoic.

“How many would you like?”

“Five will do I think.” I nod and take out my garden shears to cut the flowers. I wrap them up in purple paper and ring him up.

“Thank you so much, Iris.”

“You’re welcome, Steve. You’re always welcome back.” He smiles sadly, takes the flowers and leaves.


	2. Magnolias

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Death mentions, nazism mentions, body modification mentions, swearing warnings.

Weeks go by and I don’t see Steve. I do my best to hide my disappointment every day I go to work. Lisa teases me constantly but understands the reason for all my pouting.

“I don’t blame you sister,” she says as she rearranges a bouquet of magnolias. They’ve grown beautifully; their pale pink and white flowers look like they’ve been painted by hand. I make a note to take a few home for my kitchen.

“If Captain America was chatting me up, I’d swoon too.” I nearly choke on air.

“C-c-captain…America?” Lisa turns to look at me, her eyes incredulous.

“You do know that Steve is Captain America right?”

“Do I look like I know he’s freakin’ Captain America! No! How? You just let me mope around over him and never thought to tell me?” I’m practically yelling now, my arms flapping like a manic bird causing a few startled customers to look my way.

“It’s okay everyone,” Lisa says. “Nothing to see here. Please don’t hesitate to ask us for help.” Lisa marches over to me, grabs my arm and pulls me into a secluded corner.

“Are you crazy? Stop yelling, you’re gonna make customers think we’re crazy!”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” I whisper yell. Acho! Fucking hell, here come the sneezes. My allergy meds must be wearing off by now.

“Bless you. I thought you knew! I guess he must be on some big mission, he hasn’t shown up in like a month.”

“I guess…it doesn’t matter. I don’t think he’s ready to date anyway.”

“Why do you say that?” I recall the sad look that covered Steve’s face the last time he was here. How I wanted to give him a hug and tell him that everything would be all right.

“Well, he came by to pick up flowers for a funeral. Steve said that the flowers for the deceased, a woman named Peggy, would be perfect for her.” Lisa’s brows raise and her eyes widen.

“Peggy was one of the founding members of S.H.I.E.L.D. I heard that they were kind of in love but when Steve went in the ice for seventy-five years, she thought he was dead. She must have been really old if she’s passed away by now.” How could have not known? I feel even worse knowing that Steve was probably so heartbroken when he came in the shop. Peggy must have been the last remnant of a life that he used to have. My chest feels like I just got the wind knocked out of me, or maybe it’s just my allergies.

When I get off from work, I head toward the Captain America exhibit at the Smithsonian. Walking through the exhibit feels like I’m invading Steve’s privacy. A poster displays Steve before the super soldier serum and after. Pre-serum Steve is frail and ghostly, but I can tell there was some fight in him. I smile to myself as I wonder what he was like then. The Howling Commandos get a special part in the exhibit, his childhood best friend Bucky is front and center. It says that he died, but upon further reading, it looks like the information has been updated.

James B. Barnes was reported dead when he fell from a moving train but was found by HYDRA, the Nazi science division where they performed body modifications on Barnes, giving him a cybernetic left arm that he had lost in the fall and used him as a weapon to push their fascist agenda. Barnes was given a new name, The Winter Soldier. As The Winter Soldier, Barnes carried out covert assassination missions for HYDRA under mind control. He resurfaced in 2014 and is currently in hiding.

“Holy shit,”I whisper and a little kid giggles. I look down to see a little boy with a toothy grin looking up at me.

“You said a bad word,” the little boy to my right laughs as his mother pulls him away before shooting me a glare.

“Sorry?” The family leaves and I go to watch a quick movie on Steve’s war days. He’s as handsome as he was seventy years ago. Peggy speaks about him for the film—I can tell she loved him very much. I think of the flowers I picked out for her, I hope she liked them, wherever she may be.

“I think she liked the flowers,” a voice says next to me. I turn in my chair, startled at the man suddenly next to me. I reach for my bag, my hands searching for my pepper spray.

“It’s me! Steve!” A wave of relief washes over me.

“Bloody hell, you almost scared me half to—nevermind,” I mumble when I remember that Steve is probably still grieving. He gives me a sheepish smile.

“Sorry about that, Iris. I saw you earlier and I wanted to come say hello but I didn’t want to interrupt.”

“It’s okay, you could have talked to me. Well, maybe not startle me like you just did.”

“Shhh!” An angry voice hisses at us. Steve looks at me and says, “maybe we should take this conversation somewhere else?” I chuckle and nod in agreement.

“Sure, where do you have in mind?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This story is currently on hiatus on my Tumblr. If it gets many hits/kudos/comments, I'll continue it. But keep updated on other stories of mine on my Tumblr (i-the-hell-is-bvcky)!


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